


Touch My World With Your Fingertips

by kristen999



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Dog Tags, Feelings, Fluff, M/M, Military Uniforms, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Romance, Uniform Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-14 10:36:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16911354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kristen999/pseuds/kristen999
Summary: Danny has plans for Steve when he returns home from his reserve drill.





	Touch My World With Your Fingertips

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bgharison](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bgharison/gifts).



> A/N: Written for bgharison. Based on her prompt. My muse took it and ran! Happy early holidays!
> 
> Thank you to my beta esteefee for her crit and suggestions.

***  
Every third Saturday of the month it was the same ritual. The mattress shifted under Steve’s weight as he crawled out of bed and Danny rolled onto his side to watch him. 

Steve was a creature of habit. He adjusted himself. Rubbed his eyes. Stretched his arms into the air, treating Danny to the muscles of his well-defined back. And yeah, Danny wanted to join Steve in the shower, give up some shuteye for an amazing blowjob. But not this weekend. That was the rule. 

0400 hours was an ungodly time to wake-up, but Steve preferred getting to Pearl-Hickman early. The sound of the shower almost lured Danny back to sleep, but the running water stopped as fast as it started, jolting him awake.

Steve walked back out and undid the towel wrapped around his waist, allowing it to fall onto the floor. And damn it, the rule was so fucking unfair, skewed to drive Danny crazy. But he was a good partner, and unlike Steve, actually followed the rules. 

Sitting up in bed, Danny enjoyed one of his favorite rituals: watching Steve change into his military fatigues, going from Steve McGarrett, head of Five-O, to Lt. Commander McGarrett, U.S Navy SEAL.

Danny remained in bed without saying a word. And fuck, all he wanted was to touch Steve and run his hands all over him. But Danny would wait. He’d follow through, not saying a word as Steve left for the weekend for his reserve drill.

***

Forty-eight hours was a lifetime without Steve. Normally Danny would spend more time with Grace and Charlie, but Rachel took the kids to L.A. for a special occasion, and there were no pressing cases for once. 

The saying was "absence makes the heart grow fonder," but Danny’s heart just ached with every passing minute. During most reserve drills, Steve remained near Pearl, going onto a submarine or carrier. On rare occasions, he’d go out on some maneuver to jump out of planes or swim ten miles to rescue fake hostages. 

Danny tried not thinking about it. He knew Steve was fucking good at his job, he had the trident and medals to prove it, but that didn’t mean Danny liked the baggage and scars that came along with it. The Navy was part of Steve; it was in his blood, a thread woven throughout his family’s history. And now, well, it was a part of Danny.

He cooked and cleaned all day Sunday, and when that wasn’t enough, Danny went into the backyard to garden, keeping his mind and hands busy, not thinking about Steve out in the water or conducting weapons’ training. And Danny would not think about Steve returning home, about his aftershave or the feeling of his strong arms around Danny's waist, not if he wanted to keep his sanity.

His phone vibrated and Danny peered down. _Three minutes away._

A tingle of anticipation shot through his spine. Talk about not giving him enough notice. He took the stairs two at a time as he went upstairs.

SEALs were so fucking punctual. Danny heard the front door open and close, followed by the sound of Steve’s boots on the stairs. 

Sucking in a breath, Danny forced his heart to slow down. It didn’t matter. Because his pulse started racing as soon as Steve entered their bedroom.

Dropping his duffle to the floor, Steve came to a stop in the middle of the room and stood at parade rest. 

Danny walked up to Steve, hands hovering toward Steve’s chest before he stopped himself. “May I?”

Steve peered down at Danny, two day's worth of stubble accenting his jaw line, specs of gray accenting his hair. “Permission granted.”

Danny’s hands fucking shook. God, he never dreamed in a million years that he’d have a thing for Steve in his fatigues, how they showcased his shoulders and the lean lines of his body. His blood pumped hot and fast as he rubbed his hands down the planes of Steve’s chest, over the pixilated green, black and brown camouflage of Steve’s duds. The pads of his fingers glided over the Navy Anchor, Constitution and Eagle design Steve had painstakingly explained to him one night.

He moved his fingers across the letters spelling out McGarrett that were sewn flush with the top of the right shirt pocket. Slid them in reverence over the "U.S. NAVY" across the left shirt pocket, Steve’s chest heaving as Danny paid special attention to the rank across the collar. 

Despite how turned-on he was, Danny’s impatience was far greater. “You have too many clothes on.”

Steve stepped closer, his thigh brushing against Danny’s. “Sounds like a problem that requires a solution.”

Danny began undoing the hidden buttons of the outer shirt, rolling it off Steve’s shoulders, revealing the coyote brown t-shirt underneath. Clutching the camo, Danny carefully folded and put it on the nightstand.

Steve remained still, watching every move, his expression neutral, eyes hooded. Testing Danny’s resolve. Well, challenge accepted. 

Danny traced the outline of Steve’s dog tags beneath his t-shirt, pressing his fingers against the soft cotton. “Move to the chair.”

Steve shuddered from the command, his breathing catching as he sat down and presented his boots to Danny.

_Jesus. Yes, this._

Kneeling, Danny studied the care Steve used in following his precious regulations. “Were these bloused properly, Commander?”

“Yes, sir.”

The snap in Steve’s reply sent a jolt of energy down his spine and into Danny’s cock. 

It took every ounce of willpower to keep his voice steady. Danny studied the way Steve’s pants were tucked them inside his boots, ballooning around his ankles, prim and proper. “These look in order.”

“Thank you, sir.”

If Steve kept calling him sir in that fucking throaty tone, Danny might not be able to keep himself from crawling into Steve’s lap and just screwing him right there. 

Untying Steve’s laces, Danny removed Steve’s feet from his boots, then his socks. He rubbed his fingers along the curve of Steve’s calf then down the arch of his foot, causing Steve to groan, his toes to curl.

“I think it’ll be easier if you stood,” Danny said his voice thick.

Licking his lips, Steve obeyed, rising to his feet, presenting himself. Danny didn’t waste any time. He ran his fingers along the elasticized waistband of Steve’s pants, playing with each individual belt loop before resting his hands on the belt buckle. 

“Did you polish this along with your boots?” Danny asked, tracing the navy symbol over the front of the buckle. 

“Per regulations.”

Undoing the buckle, Danny pulled the belt loose until both ends dangled over Steve’s crotch, smiling at the knowledge that he was the one making Steve hard, making him slowly lose some of that hard-earned discipline. Causing him to take rapid bites of breath. 

Danny continued teasing, playing with the dangling buckle. “And how many pockets do you have?”

“Two back hip pockets.”

And yeah, Steve was with the program as Danny cupped his ass, inspecting the pockets. 

“Two quarter top pockets, two thigh cargo pockets—” 

Steve’s voice caught in his throat as Danny dug his fingers inside both front pockets, rubbing against the muscle. “And this?” he asked, undoing the button closure of the waistband and unzipping the fly.

Steve grunted, his erection growing beneath his underwear. 

“You still have too much on,” Danny told him.

“Yes, sir,” Steve said with barely restrained enthusiasm. Beads of sweat dotted Steve’s brow, his face flushing pink. Using Danny’s shoulders for support, Steve stepped out of each pant leg. Folding the pants, Danny put them with the cammies.

“Danny,” Steve growled.

And yes, that was it, Steve’s composure was cracking. 

Steve stood in white briefs instead of the black ones he usually wore to bed, his brown undershirt molding to his body. Danny couldn’t help smoothing down the quarter length sleeves with his hands, enjoying the hard muscle beneath his palms, before tracing the outline of Steve’s the dog tags again.

“Still too many layers,” Danny muttered. 

Steve pulled the remaining t-shirt up and over his head. Tossing the shirt at the chair, he reached toward his neck to remove the dog tags.

Danny grabbed Steve’s hands with his own. “Don’t. Leave them on.”

The tags moved with the rise and fall of Steve’s chest, over the very beating of his heart. 

Danny rubbed his fingers over the metal surface, over Steve’s last name, date of birth, and blood type. A shiver went down Danny’s spine at the meaning of the tags, at the rubber holders preventing them from making noise. There were two tags, one always hung from the chain, the other was meant for the inside of Steve’s boot. 

His breath caught in his throat again as Danny took one tag and pressed it to his lips. Twirling the chain around his finger, Danny tugged, bringing Steve closer until their mouths met. 

The kiss was all sensation--the plumpness of Steve's lower lip, the feel of his breath on Danny's face. Danny grabbed onto Steve’s shoulders, the two of them kissing as they moved, stumbling then bumping into the dresser.

Danny rubbed his face against Steve's rough cheek, felt Steve's callused hand along his own stubbled jaw, and then Steve kissed him again, Danny inhaling the scent of soap, sweat, and gun oil.

Steve made a desperate sound in the back of his throat and he took over, pushing Danny toward the bed. And no, that was not going to happen. Danny wrapped a leg around Steve’s knee and sent him onto the mattress.

Steve flopped onto his back and looked at Danny in shocked, gleeful surprise. Danny took advantage and crawled over him, nuzzling Steve’s neck, his collarbone, licking every inch of skin, his tongue flicking over the metal chain against Steve’s skin. 

Steve rubbed his hands up and down Danny’s shoulders, over his arms, his whole body jerking when Danny moved to Steve’s nipples.

Steve gasped, his nipples going hard under Danny’s tongue. “Oh, God… Danny.”

It turned Danny on even more to hear Steve call out his name, groaning in pleasure. He needed to hear more, make Steve let go. 

Reaching down, he brushed his fingers over Steve's hard cock, teasing him through his cotton underwear.

Steve panted, legs shifting, hands digging into the mattress. Danny added even more pressure. 

“Fuck…Danny…please…”Steve wrapped his arms around Danny’s back. And between one second to the next, he flipped Danny over.

Normally Danny would be annoyed by Steve’s lack of patience, but not with Steve on top of him. Danny stared up at Steve's lean form straddling him, the glint of dog tags swinging above him.

And Danny wanted to capture this moment, of Steve’s laser-focus directed at Danny, his wicked grin, his chest heaving from his ragged breathing.

With deft fingers, Steve unbuckled Danny’s belt and unzipped his pants with such singular precision it was hard to remember the last time anyone had ever needed or wanted Danny like this.

Steve reached into Danny's fly and pulled his cock out through the gap in his boxers, rubbing his thumb up and down Danny’s shaft. A buzzing filled Danny’s ears and sent a heat through all his limbs. And damn it, of course Steve took control of everything, assailing Danny with overwhelming sensations, making him breathless, causing dots to dance behind his closed eyelids. 

But he wanted to take it all in, so Danny forced his eyes open, watching Steve make Danny come undone.

"You’re such —" Danny managed finally while Steve straddled his thighs, stroking his cock, "—a control freak—" Danny gasped when Steve bent down and did something amazing with his tongue, his dog tags brushing against the upper Danny’s over stimulated skin. 

“Oh, fuck,” Danny gritted out, 

Steve began sucking him, sliding his tongue up and down his cock like it was a mission critical op. 

But Danny needed to feel Steve on him, his heat, his skin. He’d waited the whole weekend for Steve to return, had watched him go off to play war without a goodbye. Because Steve didn’t do goodbyes, it was bad luck, even during reserve drills. And it was so hard for Danny not to say _I love you; good bye; I’ll see in a few days,_ so he would wait, find something to do, daydream about moments like this, for Lt Commander McGarrett to walk inside and return home as his Steve. 

Steve shoved his underwear down with his left hand and took Danny into his calloused right.

“You’re…such…a multi-tasker…”

“Yeah? Like this?”

Steve began squeezing and groping him. "Yeah, yes, like that," Danny gasped. "God, just like—" and then Steve joined their cocks together in his fist and Danny just lost it.

But Danny would not be outdone. Reaching up, he gripped Steve’s hip. Using him for leverage, he reached over and gripped Steve’s hard cock, taking over and jacking it for him. 

“God.” Steve bent down, breathing ragged in Danny’s ear. “Don’t…don’t… stop…”

Steve’s grip loosened as Danny’s got tighter, stroking faster, until Steve shuddered violently with gasping, wet-sounding sobs. Tenderly, Danny reached over and pulled Steve close, holding him through his orgasm as Steve shook through his release. 

“Danny…”

Not yet; Danny wasn’t done. Gatherings air into his own lungs, Danny moved to Steve’s ear. “Let me fuck you.”

Steve went still for a moment, and then he leaned in, clutching Danny around the shoulders. "Yes, please," he said in a hoarse-sounding voice.

This. Danny had longed for this all weekend: to cause Steve to plead, to lose himself a little, to let go and give himself over to Danny. 

Steve moved onto his hands and knees, his back, thighs, and those amazing arms a beautiful sight. Shoving his own pants and boxers down the rest of the way, Danny then removed his own shirt. 

Going to the dresser, Danny grabbed some lube and applied a liberal amount to himself. He crawled behind Steve, gripped his hips, and pushed in slowly. Steve groaned as Danny dug his fingers harder into his sides, moving deeper. 

“Yes, yes, that…” Steve grunted with his head hanging down.

They started moving together, and oh, God, Danny wanted to draw things out, take it slow, make it last. But Steve had other ideas, pushing back and increasing the rhythm. 

Danny had been on the edge all night, waiting and waiting for Steve to come home, and now, he was inside Steve, the two of them groaning and grunting together.

Danny reached up Steve’s back, touching the edge of his silver chain, and knew that his Steve was here with him. With one final thrust, Danny shouted Steve’s name, his whole body a live-wire of pleasure as he came. 

Steve cursed a few moments later, shuddering and collapsing beneath him. Danny threw his arms around Steve, kissing his shoulder blades, the back of his neck, before falling beside him, blissed-out and exhausted.

“Come here,” Steve mumbled, reaching out for him. 

“Hold on,” Danny said, his voice heavy. 

Finding a towel from the nightstand, he did a quick clean-up before succumbing to Steve’s heavy, warm body. Steve wrapped his arms around Danny, tucking him close against his chest, Steve’s breathing slow and contented.

“I have to wear my dress blues….next week for a ceremony,” Steve whispered in Danny’s ear. “And you can attend it with me.”

No need to wait on Steve to return from somewhere, no need to withhold a goodbye, I love you. Just Steve in his crisp, pristine uniform. 

“Wear your tags for me.” 

“Always for you,” Steve said, squeezing him tight. 

“Then we better rest up now.” Danny snuggled closer, falling asleep in Steve’s arms, happy and satisfied. 

***  
Fini-

Eeep. Kind of went out of my comfort zone for this one. /o\ Hope you enjoyed it!  
**Title from Queen.


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